deeper & darker than the ocean
by Crimsonspiderlillies
Summary: On a quiet afternoon, Yonaga decides to paint Shirogane. "Atua says you have something to hide," she mused, not taking her eyes away from the canvas. "Angie can see it too. She can see it in your eyes as she brings them to life on her canvas. Tsumugi' eyes are full of secrets, no?"


"Shirogane-san? Angie wants to ask you something!"

Shirogane was standing alone in the dining hall, staring at the floor. There were no windows, but an artificial glow that illuminated the room. However, where the cosplayer stood, the atmosphere changed in a way Angie just couldn't place.

She slowly approached Shirogane, her flowing yellow jacket rippling with every step, a sunny aura that contrasted Shirogane's glum stance.

She hesitated for a second before gently tapping her shoulder. (Something about the taller girl was intimidating, but Yonaga couldn't place it. A 'don't come too close' kind of feeling. If they weren't in a killing game, we'd deliberately ask what was wrong, but Angie knew that Shirogane lacked the spiritual peace that she could easily reach with mere faith.)

Tsumugi turned around. Her glance swayed from the floor up to met Angie's bright eyes, and her face molded into a look of surprise. "Yonaga-san? Do you need something?"

Angie nodded. "Angie has been watching Tsumugi, and Atua says she'd be the perfect subject for Angie's painting!"

"Why me?" Tsumugi asked, looking more confused by the second. "There's nothing flashy or particularly special about me, and there's prettier girls you could've chosen, like Harukawa-san or Tojo-san..." Her voice trailed off, recognizing her mistake. "Oh, sorry. That was insensitive. Still, it's plain to see that I'm an odd choice."

Angie shook her head. "No, no! Angie thinks Shirogane-san is beautiful in her own special way! Her hair is so long and wavy, like the ocean from Angie's home, and her eyes are like the sparkling waters at sunrise!" She paused. "Besides, Atua chose you. Tsumugi should be honored!"

"Atua chose me, huh... well, if you insist, I guess it couldn't hurt..."

"Nyahaha! Divine, divine," the artist cheered, beaming from ear to ear. "Come on!" She skipped off to her lab as Tsumugi struggled to keep up."

"Hey... please slow down... it's plain to see I can't keep up," Shirogane murmured - to no avail. Breathless, she stumbled into the artist's research lab; practically collapsing on the floor. "Alright," she said, looking around the room as if she's _never _been in there before, as if the design was foreign and unexpected. "This is a nice setting, especially for painting," she observed. "A shame that such a design was wasted on a place like this..."

Angie, setting up her canvas, shook her head. "That's not an issue. This room is wonderful, so Angie doesn't have any desire to leave! With Atua and everyone on her side, Angie sees no reason to want to leave it behind! We've got everything we need!"

Tsumugi didn't respond to that. Instead, she tried to change the subject. "Would you like me to pose? I'm not an expert at posing, but I'm not bad either, since I've posed for countless pictures at cons, and whatnot."

By now, Angie had finished setting up the canvas and was organizing her paints. "Just a second! Angie will pose Tsumugi in a second!"

"Ah, alright."

As soon as she finished, she set down the palette and made her way over. "Angie would like it if Tsumugi sat down," she instructed. Tsumugi complied, sitting on the rickety wooden stool. "Now, cross your legs, one over the other! Yes, divine! Just like that!" Angie studied her for a few seconds, as if she were considering a few different possibilities. Finally, she grinned, so Shirogane inferred that she had reached a decision.

"Hm? What is it, Yonaga-san?"

Angie took two fingers, and set them on her chin. "Could you do this?" Tsumugi nodded.

"Alright."

"Also, look up at the sky, as if there's something elaborate and divine staring back at you."

Tsumugi raised an eyebrow. She's never gotten asked to pose like this in any photos before, but she took a deep breath and tired.

Angie studied her expression. "That's perfect. Can Angie fix your hair?"

Tsumugi felt her cheeks burn as the artist began to run her fingers through her hair. She had been half-expecting her to use a comb, but this would do. Angie gently draped her soft, silky locks over her shoulders, then stepped back to admire her work. "Angie thinks you look perfect," she declared. "So stay like that, okay?"

"Um... I don't understand why yo7d say that... I'm really not," Tsumugi mumbled, holding still. "Thanks, though... you're way too nice to me. I don't deserve this."

Angie took a look from behind her canvas, her brush continuing to dance across it in graceful (yet careful; controlled) motions. "Angie thinks Tsumugi is beautiful! So don't say that! Besides, Atua wouldn't chose someone undeserving. Although... Atua has told Angie that.." She stopped there, her serious face disappearing. She smiled. "Nyahaha! Don't mind that, though! Tsumugi is beautiful, that's all that matters, and her painting will turn out divine; heavenly!"

Tsumugi was curious now. "Atua told you something about me? What kind of business could you god possibly have with such a plain girl like myself?" She asked. She wanted to take a peek at the artist, a feeling of dread creeping over. Angie's personality and origins were risky, but she was the kind of character that Tsumugi's always loved. The failed hero, the misunderstood hero who seemed creepy but had good intentions. However, to think there was a possibility that Angie sensed something off about her... it didn't surprise her as much as it should.

She loved characters like her. She had everything that caused her to grow fond of the dearest protagonist, a hero who had everyone's best interests in mind, only with foreign origins, strange ideals, peculiar philosophies and a reputation. She tried to hold still, but couldn't help but shiver a little.

_She really didn't deserve the kind things the artist said to her._

_Not once did she. _She was enjoying this sentiment though, but she tried not to grow attached. Maybe it stared the nights she began to dream about Akamatsu instead of Enoshima. Enoshima Junko, she thought. Be more like Enoshima Junko, and don't get attached.

As she thought, she was soothed by the sound of the wet paint brush tickling the canvas.

After what seemed like forever, Yonaga spoke out again; but it wasn't her usual sunshine dripping tone, it was one with a slight edge. "Atua says you have something to hide," she mused, not taking her eyes away from the canvas. "Angie can see it too. She can see it in your eyes as she brings them to life on her canvas. Tsumugi' eyes are full of secrets, no?"

Shirogane felt a shiver running down her spine again. She didn't say another word, and all that she could hear was the sweeps of the paintbrush. Angie didn't just paint - she understood what she painted, it had reason, purpose - so for someone like Shirogane, the painting held values and beauty with origins running deeper and darker than the oceans.


End file.
